Insult to Injury
by wordlesscaptain
Summary: Steve x Reader An ignored injury leaves you with more trouble than you bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

You weren't clumsy per se, but you definitely weren't nimble. You had your fair share of missteps, but that was to be expected of someone who didn't have superhuman abilities or fancy technologically advanced suits. By some stroke of luck, you'd never gotten seriously injured on any missions as of yet and you were determined to keep it that way.

You and the rest of the Avengers were currently on what was supposed to be an easy recon mission. Go in, get information, and get out. What you weren't anticipating was a welcoming committee made up of HYDRA henchmen. The others were able to keep the enemies at bay while you and Natasha covertly made your way inside the enemy compound. Once inside, you were surprised to find the compound empty. Each room you passed was barren, save for a few tables and chairs. Since the place appeared empty, you and Natasha agreed to split up to cover more ground faster.

 _"Everything looking okay in there?"_ Steve's voice asked in your ear.

 _"So far, so good,"_ Natasha replied.

"Was it supposed to be empty when we got here?" you questioned.

 _"It might be empty in there, but I can guarantee you there's a shit-ton of them out here,"_ Tony added.

"Could you run a heat signature when you get the chance?" you asked.

 _"Will do, kiddo,"_ Tony answered.

"You're the best, Tony," you thanked.

 _"Hey now, don't let that kind of talk go to his head,"_ Sam scolded lightheartedly.

 _"Too late,"_ Tony replied. You could practically hear the smirk on his face.

You continued to make your way through the maze of the compound. You reached two double doors at the end of a long hallway and opened them slowly, positioning your gun forward in case of an attack. Inside, you found what you and Natasha had been looking for, the computer room.

"Jackpot," you whispered to yourself in triumph. "Found it, Nat," you spoke into the comms.

 _"Alright. Headed your way,"_ Natasha answered.

You stuck a USB drive into the computer and began copying files. Seeing as now there wasn't much else for you to do but to wait, you pulled out the black desk chair that was in front of the computer and sat down. You looked at the screen and it flashed that it was at 40% completion.

"I'm about halfway done. You guys still doing okay out there?"

 _"Define okay,"_ Clint quipped.

"Okay: adverb, in a satisfactory state or of a satisfactory quality," you retorted, a smirk playing on your lips, despite the fact that none of them could see it. You were sure they knew it was there, though.

 _"Okay, smartass,"_ Clint scoffed.

 _"You set yourself up for that one, man,"_ Sam commented.

 _"I hate to interrupt this lovely smackdown, which may I add, Y/N has taken out of my book and I couldn't be more proud, but,"_ Tony paused, _"I'm picking up three heat signatures in the building."_

"Three?" you asked with a slight panic. You stood up from the chair and walked around the room looking for any signs of another figure.

 _"Is anyone else in the building besides Y/N and Natasha?"_ Steve asked. A chorus of 'no's' responded.

You looked back to the computer screen. It was at 90%. You would be out of there any minute now.

"Almost done, 10% left. If there's anyone here I'm sure I can hold them off without-" you were cut off when you received a large blow to the stomach. Your breath left you instantly and you doubled over.

 _"Y/N, are you okay?"_ Steve's voice rang through your ear.

You couldn't answer him. You gasped for air, trying to get back any breath you could. You straightened up and looked your attacker in the eye. Even though you were now standing, he towered over you. He was dressed in all black, the HYDRA emblem prominent on his chest, and a mask covered his entire face. He had a large gun in his hand and it was pointed towards you.

 _"Y/N?"_ Steve's voice resonated again in your ear, this time with more urgency.

You had a choice to make: answer Steve or maneuver your way out of the line of sight of that gun. You chose the latter. You swiftly ducked and kicked him off his feet. He toppled backwards and lost grip of his gun. It fell to the ground with a loud clunk and slid away from the two of you. You and him looked to the gun then back to each other. Before you could reach his gun, he quickly stood back up and regained his footing, cocking his fists. You did the same. You both stood there for a moment, waiting to see who would strike first. A faint beeping tore your attention away from each other.

You looked to the computer screen and saw that it had finished copying all the files you needed. You were too far to reach the USB drive with ease, but luckily, so was he. You took a step cautiously towards the computer, your fists still raised. The HYDRA agent took a step closer to you, still not willing to throw a punch. You inched towards the computer again. Your eyes flickered from the USB drive back to the agent. You threw a punch at his face and he promptly blocked it. He threw a punch in return and you blocked it.

 _"Natasha, what's your status?"_ Steve's voice echoed in your ear through punches.

 _"There's more in the building now. We're going to need backup,"_ she answered.

You went back and forth throwing punches until you successfully landed a blow. He stumbled backwards and you quickly grabbed the USB drive and shoved it in your pocket.

He came at you with more rage than before, his fist making impact with your face. You staggered a bit, slightly thrown off by the blow. He took advantage of your distracted state and kicked you to in the chest, more powerful than he did when he kicked you in the stomach earlier. You were somehow able to regain your composure and stay upright. You lunged forward and started to twist yourself into a roundhouse kick, but he caught on to what you were doing and kicked you off your feet. Your leg twisted and you fell backwards with a yelp, a sharp pain shooting through your right ankle and your head hitting the ground with a thud. You lay there in a haze unable to move.

You watched as he sauntered over to his gun, picking it up and and turning back to face you. He lifted the gun and aimed it towards you. Suddenly, the familiar sound of metal reverberating off of metal filled the room. In an instant, a whirr of red, white, and blue collided with the agent and he collapsed to the floor.

You sat up with a struggle, your E/C eyes meeting Steve's piercing blue ones.

"Thanks," you breathed.

"Of course," he nodded.

"Sorry for not answering you," you professed. "I was a little busy," you nodded towards the now unconscious HYDRA agent.

"I see that," he let out a chuckle.

"I did get everything, though," you reached in your pocket and pulled out the USB drive, waving it around with a cheeky grin.

"Nice work, Y/N," he said with a smile. "Now let's get out of here," he said, reaching his hands down to you. You grabbed ahold of his hands and he pulled you up to your feet. You winced as you felt a sharp pain in your ankle.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his brows furrowing with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," you answered quickly. You weren't sure what was wrong with your ankle. You hoped it wasn't serious. You didn't want to tell Steve it hurt, because you knew he'd make a big deal about it. You also knew he'd take you off missions for a while and you didn't want to risk that. You worked hard to be a part of this team and you weren't going to let a sore ankle stop you from being a part of the action.

"Are you sure?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I-I just got the wind knocked out of me more than I would've liked. I forgot how much that sucked," you joked, hoping the change the mood. He laughed.

 _"Hey Cap,"_ Sam's voice cut in, _"do you have a location on Y/N?"_

 _"Yeah, what's taking so long, old man?"_ Tony's voice chimed in before Steve could answer.

"We're on our way out now," he answered. He turned back to you. "Do you think you can make it back to the Quinjet?" he asked. You nodded. "Okay, just let me know if you can't and I can carry you." As tempting as it was to have Steve's solid arms wrapped around you while he carried you through a battlefield, your stubborn nature had to pass.

"I'll be fine," you said with a smile, patting his shoulder. He nodded.

Steve made his way out of the computer room and you followed suit. You sucked in your breath each time your right foot came into contact with the ground. You hoped he couldn't tell. He began to pick up his pace and you tried your best to match it. You noticed the more you ran, the less pain you felt. You sighed in relief.

"You doing okay?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Never been better," you replied. You two continued to weave through the compound until you reached the outside. Once outside, you were surprised to see only a few HYDRA agents left standing. Bucky, Sam, and Tony were teamed up to clear a clean path for you and Steve to make it back safely to the Quinjet.

You were a few feet away from the jet when you felt your ankle twist due to the uneven ground below you and you fell flat on your face. You groaned, not only at the pain from the fall, but also at the searing pain that returned in your ankle. Except this time, it was worse.

Steve noticed you fall and turned around quickly to help you. He reached down and pulled you up, steadying you on your feet. Your face twisted into a grimace, an unmistakable sign that you were in fact in pain.

"Are you okay?" Steve look at you, his eyes tight and worried.

"Yeah, let's go. We need to get out of here," you answered hastily. You weren't going to have this conversation. At least not now on the battlefield. His eyes lingered on you a little longer before he started running to the Quinjet. You followed, tears welling in your eyes from the pain in your ankle. You had to make it back to the jet, then you could deal with your ankle later.

Once you made it into the Quinjet, you plopped down on the first seat available, finally glad you could take the pressure off your ankle. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes. You heard footsteps of the rest of the team board the jet and take their seats. Shortly after, the jet lifted into the air. You couldn't wait to get back to the tower, but time felt like it was moving like molasses. The only thing your mind could focus on was the persistent throbbing in your ankle. You felt someone sit next to you and you opened your eyes to acknowledge them. Much to your pleasure _and_ dismay, it was Steve.

"That was a pretty bad fall, are you sure you're okay?" he asked again for the hundredth time. You nodded. "Positive?" he asked again.

"I'm _fine_ , Steve," you insisted. "Don't worry about it." He looked at you with tight lips, but didn't press further.

"You really biffed it out there today, Y/N. You alright?" Tony asked from the seat across from you.

"Today just isn't my day," you sighed. "But yes, I'm fine." Tony hummed in response, but didn't ask any more questions. You were thankful for that.

The rest of the flight was fairly quiet. Natasha and Clint talked amongst themselves in the cockpit. Sam and Bucky, per usual, pestered Tony about mindless topics. Steve still sat next to you. You both remained quiet, only observing the interactions of the others.

When the Quinjet landed back at the tower, everyone filed out and went their separate ways to recoup from the mission. You decided it would be best if you were the last to leave that way no one would see you struggle to walk on, what you were certain was a sprained if not broken, ankle.

Steve, being the ever so overbearing mother hen that he was, stayed behind and waited for you to leave. You mentally cursed at his wonderful, but also infuriating, caring nature. You stood up slowly, making sure to control your facial expressions and not show a hint of the pain you felt. Steve watched you cautiously before walking up to you.

"Y/N, I really think you should go get that leg checked out," he urged.

"I'm okay, Steve, really," you gave him a small smile. "I think I'm going to turn in early tonight. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright," he nodded. You could hear the skepticism in his voice. "Have a good night."

"You, too," you waved. You walked to your room as quickly as you could. You hoped a long soak in the tub and a good night's sleep would have your right ankle feeling good as new in the morning.

It didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

You awoke to the warm, golden sun peeking through your haphazardly closed curtains. However, the first thing you felt wasn't the warmth from the sun, but a torturous throbbing and ache in your ankle. You lay in your bed and stared at the ceiling, not daring to move a muscle.

You mentally cursed at the stubborn nature of yourself. If you just told everyone yesterday after the mission that you were, in fact, _not_ fine and that you probably _should've_ gone to the medical ward, you wouldn't be where you were now, sprawled in your bed in misery. If you had just told _Steve_ when he repeatedly asked, for what seemed like a hundred times, if you were okay, you wouldn't be where you were now. But you couldn't go back and tell them, tell him, you actually weren't okay. Not after the fight you put up to convince everyone otherwise. And now you were royally fucked.

You threw the bulky duvet off your body with a huff and sat upright. You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You eased yourself off the bed, placing your left foot down first then your right lightly. When your right foot made contact with the floor, you winced. The pain wasn't unbearable, but it certainly wasn't pleasant. You could probably pull off not being injured as long as you kept your weight off your right foot as much as possible.

You decided staying in your room all day would just make people suspicious so you made your way slowly to the kitchen in your pajamas to get some breakfast _and_ an ice pack. You hoped you wouldn't run into anyone on your way there, but your hopes were dashed when you saw Tony leaning against the counter drinking a cup of coffee and reading something on his tablet. You continued walking, _limping_ , into the kitchen. Tony looked up from his coffee and watched you for a second before speaking.

"What do we have here?" Tony quirked a brow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you finally get some last night?"

You gave him a sharp look. "Why is that always the first place your mind goes?"

"Well, did you?" he asked.

"No," you snapped. "I actually think I pulled something during that mission yesterday," you explained while opening a cabinet and taking out a bowl.

"I think I remember you heavily insisting you were fine."

"I _am_ fine," you pressed. You grabbed a box of Froot Loops from the top of the fridge and began to pour it into your bowl. You swiveled around and opened the fridge, grabbing the milk and pouring it over your cereal. "I don't think it's too serious," you spoke, watching the milk splash around the multicolored rings. "I'm sure it'll go away in a few days."

"And if it doesn't?" he asked.

You plopped down on a bar stool and took a spoonful of cereal and answered through bites, "Then I'll cross that bridge when I get there."

"That bridge isn't going to be too happy when he finds out," he warned.

"Yeah, well just don't tell Steve."

"Don't tell Steve what?" Steve asked as he walked through the entrance of the kitchen.

"Uhh," you paused and looked towards Steve, your eyes growing wide, "that I, uhh, used your coffee mug the other day," you lied, hoping he couldn't tell. You hated lying to him, but your pride wasn't going to let the truth come out just yet.

"Oh, that's okay. I don't mind."

"Why didn't you just use your mug?" Tony asked, a mischievous smirk growing on his face.

"I couldn't find it. I didn't feel like digging around for it," you answered, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh?" he opened the cabinet where the mugs were kept. He reached in and grabbed a mug in the front, _your_ mug. "You mean this mug?" his smirk grew even wider.

You let out a nervous chuckle. "Looks like you found it."

Steve looked between you and Tony with a confused expression. He wasn't sure why you were acting weird, but with Tony being involved, he decided not to question it.

"It's okay, Y/N. You can use it whenever you want. I really don't mind," he gave you a reassuring smile.

"Thanks," you couldn't help but smile at his kind response.

"Don't you have training today?" Tony asked. You nodded.

"What's on the agenda for today, Cap?" you asked.

"I was thinking we would work on endurance today," Steve answered.

"So like what, running?" Tony asked. You gave him a side glance. There was no way you could run with the state your ankle was in. And there was definitely no way you could run on it for miles.

"Yeah. Only a couple of miles today. We just got back from a mission so I don't want to push anyone too hard," Steve added.

"Actually, I was thinking on working on strengthening my arms today. After that last mission, I think that's what I need to work the most," you voiced.

"If you think that's what would be best for you then that's fine," he nodded.

"Thanks, Steve," you smiled.

"You know what they say, Y/N, never skip leg day," Tony smirked for the 100th time today. You wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his stupid face.

"I'm going to go change," you said as you placed your empty bowl in the sink, ignoring Tony's comment. "I'll see you two in the gym later," you waved before leaving the kitchen. Once you got back to your room, you changed out of your pajamas and put on a pair of long black leggings and a loose t-shirt. You slipped on your workout shoes to the best of your ability, trying not to aggravate your ankle further. You were surprised that the pain wasn't as excruciating as you thought it would be. You knew running on it would make it worse, so you were glad Steve agreed to let you do something else.

You made your way down to the weight section of the gym, luckily with minimal limping, and picked out a set of dumbbells. You brought them over to one of the benches and sat down, thankful that you could workout and keep your weight off your foot. You started a lifting regimen and began counting your reps. You stopped when you saw Bucky walking over to where you were sitting.

"Hey, how come you got out of running?" Bucky asked.

"I asked nicely," you replied.

"Huh, that's all it takes?" he asked with a raised brow.

"I guess," you shrugged.

"Hey, Steve!" Bucky yelled across the room. Steve looked at him in acknowledgement. "I'm going to work on my arm today instead." Steve nodded and turned back to what he was doing.

"Wow," he turned back to you, "you were right. That was easy," he commented.

"So, you're going to work out your _arm_ today?" you asked with a raised brow. "Just one?"

"Yep," he replied. "This one," he lifted up his metal arm and flexed with a grin. You smiled and rolled your eyes.

"Put that thing away," Sam scolded as he walked towards the two of you.

"Why should I, bird brain?" Bucky asked.

"No one wants to see that," Sam replied, gesturing to Bucky's arm.

"Oh god, here we go," you mumbled under your breath.

"It's okay to admit you're jealous of me," Bucky smirked.

"You wish," Sam scoffed. "Why would I be jealous of an arm when I've got a set of wings that are _much_ cooler?"

"You're proud of those flimsy things? I'm pretty sure I've knocked you out of the sky on multiple occasions," Bucky recalled.

"Well, maybe I _let_ you do that," Sam quipped.

"What's going on over here?" Steve interrupted. You watched as he made his way over to the three of you, a way too tight gray shirt splayed across his chest and a pair of dark blue sweatpants clung to his hips deliciously. _Damn_ , he looked good. But he always looked good. You caught yourself staring at him for a second too long and looked away, your face flushing slightly.

"Looks like I wasn't invited to the party," he stated with a tiny smirk.

"They're having a pissing contest," you replied flatly, finally regaining composure to look at him again.

"Ahh, so the usual," he gave you a knowing look, placing his hands on his hips. You nodded, an amused smile playing on your lips. You both knew this would go on between Sam and Bucky forever if one of you didn't stop it.

"I'm going to start my workout. You coming, Bucky?" you asked.

"Yep," Bucky nodded. "Have fun with this turkey, Steve," he patted Steve on the shoulder before making his way towards the rack of weights.

"Wait, hold up," Sam spoke. "You two aren't running today?"

"Nope," Bucky replied, popping the 'p'. "But you are," he smirked.

Sam looked from Bucky to you and then to Steve, his mouth agape.

"Sorry, Sam," you shrugged. "Have fun on your run," you grinned.

"Can't I work out with you guys?" he pleaded.

"Nope, you gotta work out those chicken legs of yours," Steve said with a shit eating grin. Your jaw dropped at his sassy comment. Bucky stifled a laugh. Sam stood there absolutely dumbfounded.

"Oh ho," Sam grumbled. "That's low, Steve, real low."

"You two," you pointed to Sam and Bucky, "have corrupted him."

"Oh no, he's always been corrupted," Bucky smirked. Steve let out a short chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. You just shook your head.

"Let's go," Steve looked over to Sam and patted him on the back. "See you two later," he said with a smile, his eyes locking with yours, before leading Sam outside to start their run. You watched the two of them leave. Well, you mostly watched Steve leave. When they were no longer in sight, you turned back to start your workout and were met with Bucky sitting on the bench across from you, an amused smile on his face.

"What?" you asked, slightly uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Nothin'," he replied nonchalantly, the smile still plastered on his face.

"Clearly it's something. Why do you have that stupid smile on your face?" you asked. "You're starting to look like the Cheshire Cat."

"Just thinking 'bout something," he answered.

"Ah-ha, so it's definitely not nothing."

"Guess not," he shrugged, still smiling.

"So?" you gestured for him to elaborate.

"So…" he trailed off. You looked at him expectantly. "Any reason you're not running today?" he finally asked. You froze. You definitely were _not_ expecting that question. Not from Bucky at least. You didn't think he would've picked up on the fact your ankle had been hurting.

"No reason," you shrugged, hoping you were giving off a believable vibe. "I just think I need to work on my arms more, especially after yesterday's mission."

"I see," he hummed. "And you're sure it has nothing to do with that ankle you've been limping on since we got back?" he asked raising a brow.

"Bucky, I-"

"Listen, I get it," he started. You were slightly shocked by his words. "You don't want to worry anyone or get taken off missions, yadda yadda yadda. I've been there. We've _all_ been there." Your eyebrows rose at his statement. "But," he paused, "you gotta tell Steve. He hasn't shut up about it since we got back." Now you were fully, one hundred percent, shocked by his words.

"I-I don't…I don't understand," you stammered.

"Steve's worried about you is all," he stated. You felt your face heat up at this. "And," he continued, "I think you should just tell him the truth and put him out of his misery."

"But he'll be mad," you replied.

"I don't think so," he shook his head.

You huffed in response. You knew Bucky knew Steve, so when he said he didn't think Steve would be mad, you wanted to believe him with every fiber in your being. But you just couldn't. What if he was wrong? You didn't want to take that risk. You were fairly certain your ankle would feel good as new in a couple of days anyway.

"You know, while you're at it," he hummed, "you could also tell him that other thing you've been hiding from him," he smirked.

"What other thing?" you asked. You knew the answer. You knew Bucky was referring to the strong feelings you had been harboring for years towards the man.

"You know."

"Obviously I don't," you replied.

"Look, I see the way you look at him. There's no denying there's something there," he stated. You blinked at him, slightly taken aback that he had actually picked up on the fact that you liked Steve. You hadn't told a soul, not even your close friends, Natasha and Wanda. You'd been trying your hardest to hide your feelings for Steve for years. You didn't treat him any differently than you did with anyone else on the team. At least, you thought you didn't. You thought you had been doing well at keeping your feelings a secret. Apparently, you were wrong.

"Bucky, I don't-,"

"God," he groaned, running his hands down his face in frustration. "You both are so stubborn," he muttered and shook his head. "Listen, you don't have to admit it to me. But," he paused, "you should tell him. I told him to get his head out of his ass and tell you, but…"

"Wait, what are you saying?" you asked, your eyes growing wide. You could feel your heartbeat speed up faster and faster as each second passed.

"It's not for me to say," he shrugged apologetically. You let out a long sigh, feeling slightly defeated that he wouldn't tell you exactly what he was hinting at. You had to respect that, though. If it was true, that Steve, in fact, by some crazy chance, liked you back, then you would want to hear it from him.

"So, you'll talk to him?" he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

"Fine," you grumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

You were going to tell Steve about your ankle. You _really_ were. But you wanted to wait for the right moment. You didn't want to just spring it upon him. That wouldn't be fair. You thought maybe you could slide it into a conversation somehow. You also didn't want anyone else to be around. You wanted to tell Steve and only Steve. You realized that waiting probably wasn't the best idea, because now you had waited too long and you and Steve were both assigned on a small mission together and you still hadn't told him.

But maybe not telling him wasn't so bad after all. You were fortunate enough to have kept off your ankle for most of the week. You continued to do arm workouts with Bucky, and occasionally Sam when he was able to weasel his way out Steve's 'Chicken Leg Workouts', as Steve called them; a running joke you were ecstatic he was going to keep going for as long as possible. Staying off your ankle allowed it to heal from the terrible state it was in previously. Occasionally, the familiar sharp shooting pain would return, but only when you stepped on it a certain way.

You were feeling confident about this mission with Steve. If you were assigned this mission at the beginning of the week, you weren't sure how you would've managed to go, especially being paired with Steve. But with your ankle pretty much back to normal, you no longer felt the need to tell Steve what happened and you didn't feel bad about it. It seemed pointless really. Why bring up something that was no longer an issue?

"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Steve spoke up from the seat of the cockpit where he was flying the Quinjet to the small HYDRA base you both were about to infiltrate.

"What has?" you asked from the back of the jet. You gathered the rest of your weapons and gear, checking them over once more before making your way to the cockpit and sitting in the seat next to Steve.

"Just us two, kicking HYDRA ass," he looked over to you with a smile.

You couldn't help but laugh at his choice of words. "Yeah," you smiled back at him, "it has. When _was_ the last time it was just us on a mission?"

"Vegas?"

"Oh," you groaned. "That's right. Tony and I were supposed to go, but thank _god_ you went with me instead."

"You're glad I went instead?" he quirked a brow, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"Of course," you raved. You loved going on missions with Steve. He was always very well put together, so everything usually went smoothly. He was also extremely thoughtful and considerate of you. You two worked well together. You had the type of relationship where you could laugh and make jokes even in the midst of stressful, hectic situations. Every mission you had together, just you and Steve, made you fall for him even more.

"Nothing good ever happens in Vegas by default," you added. "And adding Tony, the man who kind of embodies the _entire_ city and it's lifestyle, to the mix is a recipe for disaster. I mean, can you even _imagine_ going to Vegas with him outside of work? No thank you."

He laughed. "Definitely not something I ever want to experience."

"Hopefully we never have to, but it is Tony we're talking about so," you shrugged and Steve laughed in response.

You sat in comfortable silence for the remainder of the flight, you and Steve making small comments here and there. The flight was short, only about a 45 minute ride. You and Steve were set to infiltrate a tiny HYDRA base in a small town along the coast of Maine. There were supposedly less than 10 agents at that base, so it was supposed to be an easy in-and-out mission. Although it was small, it had information regarding other small bases scattered across the upper northeast.

Steve landed the Quinjet in a wooded area amongst the trees, only a short distance to the base. Once he landed, you gathered your weapons and Steve strapped his shield securely to his left arm before leaving the Quinjet and making your way to the base.

The forested area was quiet. It looked very dense and untouched. You heard the occasional chip from birds intermixed with the rustling you and Steve's feet made. The air felt cool coming off of the coast. The evening sun began to set, causing rays of light to filter between the leaves of the trees. If it weren't for the fact that you were looking for a villainous base full of bodies that only wanted to kill you, you might've enjoyed the calm and peaceful atmosphere.

Steve halted ahead of you, putting his right arm out which stopped you from walking. Just up ahead, you saw the HYDRA base. At first glance, it looked like a run down house in the middle of nowhere. The siding was worn and dirty, pieces of it bent and falling off. A few windows were broken, some missing glass altogether. The roof was slightly sunken in in places. Shingles were missing here and there. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years. If you stumbled upon this building without the information you had, you never would've thought it housed agents for one of the world's deadliest organizations.

"Looks homey," you whispered to Steve. He looked over to you and smiled, rolling his eyes at your comment.

"Follow my lead," he instructed. You nodded, trailing behind Steve as he made his way around the building. He walked quickly to the side of the building and stopped in front of a door, before knocking it open with his shield.

"You sure you didn't want to use the doorbell or something?" you joked in a hushed tone.

"Not really my style," he looked over to you with a smirk.

Steve walked through the now broken doorway and you followed closely behind. A strong musty smell filled your nostrils as soon as you entered. You passed through a dimly lit hallway that lead to the foyer. Light from the setting sun shone through the windows and illuminated the space before you. The walls were old and cracked. Tattered wallpaper with faded, vintage prints covered parts of the walls. The floor was extremely dusty and creaked whenever you and Steve took a step. You wanted to make a joke about the situation, try and lighten the mood. But you couldn't. You felt like you walked straight into a horror film, and you were scared out of your mind. You had never encountered a HYDRA base quite like this before.

There was a stairwell that led upstairs in the middle of the foyer. To the left, there was an open worn down door that did nothing to conceal the steps that lead toward the lower level of the building.

"You take the basement and I'll go upstairs," Steve directed. Your eyes grew wide at his statement. You'd watched enough horror movies to know _nothing_ good ever happens in a basement. Steve saw the concern on your face and spoke again.

"I'm not sure this old floor can hold our weight. If one of us falls through, I'd want it to be me," he explained. You nodded in acknowledgement. Your heart fluttered at his consideration for you. You knew if he fell through, he'd walk it off as if nothing had happened. And if you fell through…well, let's just say you'd have more than an aching ankle to worry about.

"If anything happens down there, you know how to reach me," he gestured towards the black comm in his ear.

"Got it," you nodded.

You looked at him one last time before making your way down the basement steps. You pulled out a flashlight to light up your path. As you made your descent, the old, musty smell started to dissipate. You found that odd, because basements, especially old basements, were notorious for smelling musty. Once you made your way down the stairs, you walked through a long, narrow hallway. You turned the corner and were greeted by shiny, chrome walls and bright fluorescent lights, a stark contrast to the crumbling building that first greeted you.

"What the hell?" you muttered to yourself, taking in your startling surroundings. It looked like HYDRA had some heavy renovating done.

As you continued walking, the chrome walls gradually turned into glass panels that showcased the different rooms behind them. Luckily, all the rooms you had passed so far had been empty of any agents. They did, however, contain a lot of high tech equipment, ranging from giant screens to computers to machines, most of which you had no idea what they were used for.

You continued to walk throughout the space, your footsteps echoing softly around you. You weren't sure what you were supposed to look for now. Your mission briefing instructed you to take out a handful of agents and filter through file cabinets or a stray computer or two to find the information you needed. Now? You had a much bigger problem on your hands.

You decided to find a computer room, like you had on missions in the past. Surely a space this large would have one. You kept wandering for what felt like forever, still not seeing any signs of life. That was undeniably odd. A technologically advanced place that was exceptionally well hidden in the middle of nowhere without a single soul around to use it was definitely a cause for concern. A sick, worried feeling grew in the pit of your stomach.

You turned corner after corner until you finally came across the base's computer room. You opened the glass door and entered the room quickly. You walked towards a computer in the back corner of the room, hoping it would keep you hidden if anyone were to walk by. You pulled out a USB drive, stuck it into the computer, and began copying files like you had done countless times before. You'd think by now HYDRA would've learned to put up better safeguards to your frequent hacking.

You thoughts led to Steve. You found it a little odd that he hadn't checked in with you yet, but maybe time felt like it was passing by faster than it really was. You wondered what the rest of the building looked like. Was the main level just a front to hide the large state-of-the-art space below it or was there something hidden upstairs as well?

You looked around the room and through the glass panels to see if there was anyone else walking around. When you didn't see anyone, you pressed your finger to your ear.

"Steve, have you found anything?" you asked.

 _"No,"_ he answered after a few seconds. _"There's nothing up here anywhere. Looks like we got bamboozled."_

"God, you're so old. Who says 'bamboozled' anymore?" you joked.

 _"I do,"_ he rebutted. You could hear the smile on his lips. _"Have you had better luck?"_ he asked.

"Yeah," you breathed. "We got _bamboozled_ , alright. But not in the way you're thinking."

 _"Alright,"_ he laughed.

"I'm copying files right now, but when I'm done, I'll try to find you," you explained.

 _"On my way down there now,"_ he responded.

You looked to the screen, 95% done. A couple seconds later, the screen flashed '100%' and you promptly pulled out the USB drive. Suddenly, a loud, blaring alarm rang throughout the building. Pulling out the USB drive must've triggered the alarm. So HYDRA _had_ learned from your constant hacking after all.

You shoved the USB drive in a secure pocket in your suit and made your way swiftly out of the computer room. You turned a corner, hoping it would lead you back to the rickety, old basement stairs that led you here.

 _"Y/N, what's your location?"_ Steve asked, slight urgency in his voice.

"Uhh," you paused, the alarm still echoing in your ears, "I'm not quite sure. It's a maze down here. Are you in the basement?" you asked.

 _"Yes,"_ he answered.

"Have you reached the new edition of the basement yet?"

 _"The new-oh,"_ he paused _"you're right. We did get bamboozled."_

"Yep," you laughed. "Just keep going straight until you can make a turn. I'm here somewhere."

 _"Have you seen any agents?"_ he inquired.

"Nope," you responded.

 _"Huh,"_ he hummed. _"That's…odd."_

"Yeah that's what I-," you stopped dead in your tracks. Standing before you were at least thirty HYDRA agents, their guns pointed at you ready to attack. " _Shit_ ," you muttered.

 _"What?"_ he asked.

"We've got company," you replied. "Lots of it."

 _"Take out as many as you can, I'm on my way."_

"Roger that."

You made the split decision to turn around and weave your way back through the building, hoping to lose some of the agents in the process. You made a sharp right, then a sharp left, before making another sharp right. You looked behind your shoulder and saw that you had lost some of the agents, now with only ten of them trailing you. You could take down ten. Probably.

You opted for using hand to hand combat, not wanting to shoot off your guns and risk the chance of alerting the twenty other agents of your location. You trudged through the mass of bodies, combining the skills you learned from Steve and Natasha. You dodged as many blows as you could, only coming into contact with their fists a couple of times.

You were down to three agents now. You looked over to your left and saw that one of the agents had their gun pointed towards you, ready to shoot at any second. You swiftly slid out of the reach of the two other agents surrounding you and grabbed a hold of the arm of the agent with the gun. You pulled his arm down and angled it towards the two agents right as he pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced through one of agents and they collapsed to the ground.

You kicked the gun out of the agent's hands, landing on the floor with a loud clang. You quickly swung your right leg towards the agent's head. Your right ankle came in contact with the rock hard helmet the agent was wearing, knocking them out in an instant. Much to your dismay, that familiar shooting pain in your ankle returned, but this time it was _much_ worse. You fell to the ground, knowing you wouldn't be able to stand at all on your ankle now.

The remaining agent caught wind of your now disabled state and took advantage of the situation. He came at you hastily. You scrambled backwards on your hands and feet, dodging his kicks and punches. You reached down to your right thigh to grab the gun out of your holster, but were stopped as a sharp pain grazed across your forearm. You heard a small clatter of metal behind you and saw a knife that the agent had thrown at you, trying to stop you from reaching your gun. You looked down at your arm and saw that the gash wasn't terrible and wouldn't hinder you from continuing to fight.

You sensed someone rushing towards you and you snapped your head up and away from your freshly wounded arm. You tensed as you saw the HYDRA agent barrel towards you, knife in hand. Before you could dodge their attack, he successfully stabbed you in the thigh. You gasped at the sudden pain. He pulled the knife out quickly and stabbed you again with more force. You yelped at the pain. He tried to stab you again, but you forcefully kicked him off of you and onto his back with a loud thud. He lay there motionless and you hoped to God he wouldn't get up anytime soon.

Now that you were free from the ambush of HYDRA agents, you started to feel the throbbing pain in your right leg, stretching from your thigh all the way down to your ankle. You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked down to assess the damage. The recognizable metallic stench of blood filled your nostrils. You looked down and watched as dark crimson liquid seeped out of the two stab wounds, pooling underneath your leg. You had to put pressure on it and _fast_ if you wanted to make it out of here.

You tugged on the fabric of your sleeve, but it wouldn't tear. Damn Tony for making your suit more durable. You looked around you to see if you could use anything to tie around your thigh, but came up empty handed. You had no choice but to apply pressure with your hands. You laced your fingers together and pressed your palms around the wounds, grimacing in pain. You couldn't stand the pain for too long, removing your hands almost instantly.

"Okay, new plan," you whispered to yourself through gritted teeth.

You stood up slowly, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying out. You leaned against the glass panel, putting most of your weight on your left side. You felt dizzy and light headed. White spots flashed in front of your eyes. You hobbled out of the room and into the maze of hallways. You heard the familiar sound of Steve's shield and sighed with relief.

"Steve," you tried to yell, your voice coming out more hoarse and raspy than anything else.

Seconds later you were greeted with wide ocean blue eyes.

"Y/N," he breathed, rushing over towards your limping body. He got up close and examined you, eyes growing wider and wider as he looked over your form. "Oh my go-you're bleeding," he uttered. "We need to get you out of here."

You only nodded in response, too exhausted to say anything.

He picked you up swiftly, bridal style, and carried you out of the building. You clung to him tightly, resting your head on his chest and breathing in his comforting scent.

Once you got back to the Quinjet, Steve set you down on the cushioned row of seats. He rushed over to the cockpit and put the jet in the sky, switching it to autopilot almost immediately. He walked back to you and pulled out a first aid kit. He brought the first aid kit and placed it beside you. He knelt down in front of you and began sifting through the kit. You watched him intently, hoping that would distract you from the numbing pain that was coursing throughout your body.

He pulled out a couple packs of antiseptic wipes, a roll of gauze, and medical tape. He tore open a pack of wipes and looked up to meet your gaze.

"This is going to sting a little," he warned.

"This isn't my first rodeo," you joked, hoping to alleviate some of the tension in the air.

"I know, I know," he let out a little laugh before returning his focus to your wounds. He dabbed the first stab wound lightly and you inhaled sharply at the contact. He continued to clean the wounds, biting his lip in concentration. Once he deemed them clean enough, he rolled the soft gauze around your thigh and secured it tightly with the medical tape.

"Good as new," he smiled up at you. "Well, kind of."

"Thank you," you said quietly.

"You should rest until we get back," he suggested. "Here," he lifted your legs and helped swivel you around so you were now lying flat on your back. He set your legs down and you gritted your teeth, trying to withhold a groan from the pain that shot through your ankle.

He noticed instantly. He looked at your ankle for a moment and then to you.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his fingers brushing against your ankle delicately.

"I'm fine," you responded. You didn't want to tell him the truth. He had already taken care of two stab wounds. He didn't need to worry about you even more.

"That's not what I'm asking. I know you're 'fine', you're always fine. I need to know if it _hurts_."

You sat there for a moment meeting his unwavering gaze. You sighed and nodded, admitting defeat.

"Okay," he said quietly and stood up. He rummaged around the jet and came back with an ice pack. He knelt down and placed it cautiously over your ankle. You sighed contently at the cool sensation as it eased the throbbing pain. He stood up again and started to make his way towards the cockpit.

"Steve," you called out.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning back to you.

"Thank you," you smiled.

"Of course," he smiled back softly at you. "Now get some rest. I'll wake you when we get back to the tower," he said before disappearing in the cockpit.

You sighed and closed your eyes. You hoped sleep would overcome you, but you found yourself restless. The guilt of not telling Steve about your ankle earlier started to eat at you. It was your fault you got as badly injured as you did. If you had _just_ told him when he first asked, you wouldn't be where you were now. Would he have taken you off missions for awhile? Yes, but only for a couple of weeks or so. Now? _Now_ you had no idea how long you'd be out of action. Your ankle was much, _much_ worse. You would be out at least a couple of months. And you had no one to blame but your stubborn self.

You were going to tell him as soon as you landed. You couldn't wait again. You were going to tell him the truth, and it was going to suck, no doubt. He wasn't going to take it well, you _knew_ that for a fact. But you had no right to keep this from him any longer. He deserved better.


	4. Chapter 4

Your eyelids felt heavy, like they were being weighed down by an anchor. You struggled to find the strength to open them. You felt yourself being taken somewhere. The sound of wheels clattering against a hard surface filled your ears. You heard voices—voices you didn't recognize—talking hastily around you, but you couldn't make out what they were saying. Then you heard it, _his_ voice. It was authoritative and commanding, the usual. But you could've sworn you heard a sense of urgency and worry in the way he spoke.

You had to talk to him. You _had_ to. This couldn't wait any longer.

Your eyes snapped open and you instantly grimaced at the bright fluorescent lights that bore down above you. You were greeted by three unfamiliar faces, all dressed in navy blue medical scrubs. You must've actually fallen asleep on the Quinjet, which in any other circumstance would've been fine. But you wanted to talk to Steve _before_ you went to the medical ward. It was too late now.

"Captain Rogers," one of the unfamiliar faces spoke to get his attention.

Shortly after she spoke his name, you found him walking next to the gurney you were being wheeled on throughout the med ward. He greeted you with a smile. You smiled weakly back at him.

"How long was I out?" you asked, your voice raspy from the events that transpired earlier.

"Almost the entire flight," he answered.

"Oh," you replied softly. You honestly didn't remember falling asleep at all. You were surprised you didn't wake up when you landed. Your injuries must have taken more of a toll on you than you initially thought.

"It was terribly boring," he joked.

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped your lips. There he was making light of the terrible situation. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. You were glad he was in a good mood despite everything that had happened during the mission. You hoped his mood would stay that way when he found out the truth about your ankle.

You watched as you were wheeled through a set of double doors that lead to an examination room, Steve still walking hastily by your side. Once you were inside the room, the nurses slowed the gurney to a stop.

"We'll take it from here, Captain Rogers," one of the nurses spoke up.

Steve nodded in response. He gave you a small wave before leaving you in the hands of the nurses.

After a couple of hours of being poked and prodded by various doctors, you were finally released from their examining eyes. You were now lying in a hospital bed, a bright red cast adoring your right ankle.

The doctors explained to you briefly the condition your ankle was in earlier, but you were in so much pain from both the stab wounds and your ankle that everything was a blur. You wanted to think you heard the word 'broken' thrown around a couple of times, but you really weren't sure. You also didn't know how long you'd be stuck in that ugly cast. You were sure you'd find out soon enough. Before your mind could wander much further, two smiling—and worried—faces entered your room.

"Hey, kiddo," Tony greeted.

"Hi, Tony," you said softly. "Steve," you nodded towards his direction with a smile. He smiled back at you slightly. His gaze shifted to your obnoxiously flashy cast then back to you, his features now held an expression you couldn't read.

You felt small and guilty when he looked back at you. You wondered if he knew what happened, that you had ignored a previous injury and were now worse for wear. If he did, _oh boy_ , you were going to have hell to pay.

"Has the doc explained everything to you yet?" Tony asked, distracting you from your thoughts.

"Yes," you nodded. "But, uhh, I don't really remember what she said. It's all a little hazy."

He nodded at you. "Alright, I'll page her."

"Has she talked to you two?" you asked. You weren't sure which answer you preferred: them already knowing or having the news delivered to them with you in the room.

"Nope," he shook his head. You saw Steve also shake his head out of the corner of your eye.

The doctor came into your room shortly after with a clipboard in her hands. She began explaining the severity of the stab wounds you received. She explained that would heal fairly quickly in roughly two weeks and reminded you to apply antibiotic cream twice a day.

Next, she moved on to your ankle. This was what you were dreading the most. The truth was going to come out and you weren't sure how you, or a certain someone in the room, would handle it.

"Unfortunately, your ankle won't heal as quickly as your other wounds," she informed. "You'll have to keep it in the cast for at least two months, and then we'll put it in a brace while you work to get your complete strength and mobility back. All in all, it'll probably take about four months."

You couldn't speak. You couldn't believe you would be out that long. Had anyone on the team ever been out that long? You had no idea what you were going to do with yourself. You felt helpless and ashamed.

"I'll show you some x-rays so you have a better visual of what's going on," she continued. The lights dimmed and a holographic screen popped up—all thanks to Tony's brilliance, no doubt.

"If you'll look here," she pointed towards the x-ray, "you'll see that the fibula is completely broken. And," she paused, moving her finger across the image, "over here, you'll see that there are fractures in the tibia as well. Now, I'm not exactly sure what happened, but it looks like those fractures happened before the fibula was broken."

"So, you're saying she was injured _before_ today?" Steve asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

The doctor nodded. "It appears so."

"That'll be all. Thanks, doc," Tony spoke.

After the doctor left the room, the atmosphere felt heavy. You looked to Steve, his brows still furrowed. You could tell the gears in his head were turning. You knew he'd put the pieces together and figure out what happened eventually.

"Secrets, secrets are no fun," Tony hummed. "Secrets, secrets hurt someone," he finished as he gave you a knowing smirk.

"Since when did you become the moral compass of the group?" you scoffed.

Tony's words were all Steve needed to hear for the pieces to finally click. His head snapped to you.

"Y/N-"

"And that's my cue to leave," Tony announced before leaving you alone with Steve.

"Is it true?" he asked as he walked closer to you, his voice low.

You looked at him and opened your mouth, but couldn't bring yourself to speak.

"Y/N," he said more sternly, "did you know?" he asked.

You looked down to your hands to take your eyes away from his heavy gaze. "Steve, I'm sorry," you confessed. You looked back up to meet his gaze. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"And how exactly did you want me to find out?" he asked.

"From me. I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I…" you paused, "God, I was going to tell you, I swear, but-"

"But you didn't," he cut you off. You could hear the anger and frustration building in his voice. "But it sure sounds like you told Tony."

"No," you started. He looked at you sternly. "Okay…kind of. I saw him the morning after the mission and he noticed I was limping so he asked about it. I just told him I didn't think it was too serious and I thought it would be fine."

He hummed in response, the gears in his head turning to put more pieces of the puzzle together.

"So that's why you were acting weird that morning."

You nodded.

"And that's why you asked to work on arm strengthening."

You nodded again.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" he asked sincerely.

"I didn't want you to worry and make a big deal about it," you answered.

"I wouldn't have made a big deal-"

"You're making a big deal about it right now," you retorted.

He sighed. "I still wish you would've told me."

"In my defense, I didn't think my ankle was that bad," you countered.

"In your defense?" he scoffed. "I know you knew something was off. You're not stupid, Y/N."

"Fine," you huffed. "You're right. I knew something wasn't right. But I _didn't_ care. I couldn't justify sitting on my ass waiting for my damn ankle to feel better while everyone else was fighting to protect the world."

"That's your excuse?" he questioned.

You were seeing red now. It frustrated you that he didn't take your response as the truth. He was listening to what you were saying but he wasn't really _listening_. You knew him. He'd given you that same response many times before. But when you said it, it was no longer a viable answer. You narrowed your eyes at him before speaking again.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn't have done the same thing," you challenged. He stayed silent. "That's what I thought. You can't. Because you _have_ done the same thing. Remember that mission in Prague? You came back with three broken ribs and didn't say a word until they got infected and you could hardly breathe."

He stiffened at your words and crossed his arms.

"Or-or that one time you jumped out of that 40 story building and fractured your arm, but continued to go on missions like nothing happened."

"Well maybe you shouldn't have followed my example."

"I thought that's what I was supposed to do. You _are_ the Captain after all," you spat.

"You're right, I _am_ the Captain. You should've follow my orders, but you didn't. You ignored me when I told you to get your ankle checked the first time," he argued.

"How come _you_ can ignore your injuries, but _I_ can't?" you demanded.

"That's not the issue here. You're missing the point."

"What?" you growled. "What am I missing? I think you're the one who's missing-"

"Dammit, Y/N!" he yelled.

You froze at his sudden outburst. He had never, ever yelled at you like that before. You looked at him with wide eyes, not daring to say a word.

"Do you not realize how _senseless_ you acted? How _reckless_? It's a miracle you made it out of there in one piece. You could've gotten yourself killed. Did you ever _consider_ that?"

You averted your gaze, finding a particular spot on the floor suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. He was right. You hadn't thought about that. Your stubborn actions really could've _killed_ you. And now the weight of that thought hit you like a freight train.

"I think you should go," you whispered. Tears started to prick your eyes, threatening to spill over as each second passed.

He nodded and made his way out the door, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked over his shoulder at you before disappearing out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

You let out a shaky sigh, tears still threatening to spill. You felt terrible. You couldn't believe he yelled at you like that. You couldn't believe _you_ yelled at him like that.

You closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep to get your mind off of the fight you just had with Steve, but words kept buzzing around your head from the argument. You lay in your bed restlessly. Your brain wouldn't silence itself long enough for you to sleep. You began to feel suffocated, the heavy atmosphere of the room still not letting up. You couldn't stay in that cramped hospital room. You needed to get some fresh air to clear your mind.

You hoisted yourself out of the bed and reached for the crutches that rested against the wall. You made your way out of the room swiftly—well, as swiftly as one can with crutches. You rode the elevator up to one of the top floors and made your way to the balcony. Much to your surprise, the doors opened automatically. You mentally thanked FRIDAY for the assistance. You set the crutches against the railing and eased yourself down to the ground. You slipped your legs through the railing, your feet hanging off the balcony.

The cool air of the night calmed you instantly. Any of the anger you previously felt vanished. All that was left was guilt and remorse. You still couldn't believe you yelled at Steve like that. You acted so stupid, foolish, ignorant, reckless. The list could go on and on.

"God," you groaned, resting your head against the cool metal post of the railing.

Steve was right. You really could've gotten yourself killed. In all your years of fighting, that thought never crossed your mind. You thought about that terrible possibility for every single one of your teammates. Some more than others, particularly Steve. It made your heart clench at just the thought of losing any of them. It was a real reality for them, but never for yourself.

How had you never considered that this line of work could actually kill you? One wrong move and _poof_ —gone just like that. You weren't invincible and you knew that. Maybe that's what you were trying to prove. Prove that despite not having powers or enhanced abilities, you could still hold your own. But was it worth it? Was it worth risking your _life_?

No. It wasn't. Not by any stretch of the imagination. And you hadn't realized that until Steve said something. You had to be more careful, more cautious. You worried about your friends' lives and it was obvious they worried about yours, too. You had to respect that, honor that. Albeit, they could protect you, but _not_ in every circumstance. You couldn't rely on them to always be your failsafe. You had to be aware of your own actions and how they affected you.

You sighed and looked out to the city below. You watched mindlessly as cars came and went. Your mind was finally able to break away from the pestering thoughts from before.

You weren't sure how much time had passed before you felt someone sit down next to you. You didn't have to look to know it was Steve.

The atmosphere between you two wasn't nearly as hostile before. Maybe you had the fresh, cool air to thank. Or perhaps it was because both of your raging tempers had simmered down. However, the atmosphere still had a weight to it that you found hard to ignore.

"I'm sorry," Steve said barely above a whisper, breaking the silence between you.

You continued to look down at the city below, not wanting to look at him just yet. You could feel his gaze on you and you shifted uncomfortably.

"I shouldn't have said those things," he continued.

"No, you should've," you replied, still not meeting his gaze. "I needed to hear all of that."

"Well, I shouldn't have yelled at you at least," he replied.

"Yeah," you let out a little laugh. "Well, I shouldn't have either."

You two remained silent. The sound of car engines, tires rolling across the pavement, and buses breaking heavily were the only things you heard. You were thankful for the background noise. You knew dead silence would not keep your mind at ease.

You turned to Steve, now having the confidence to look him in the eye. "I'm sorry, too," you spoke. "I-," you sighed, "You were right. I _was_ acting recklessly. And I didn't even realize it. So, thank you," you gave him a small smile.

He nodded and smiled back at you. "I worry about you, you know," he commented.

"You worry about everyone," you replied. "That's your job."

"Yeah, well, I worry about you more. Probably more than I should."

"I worry about you, too. Probably more than I should," you repeated, a small smile forming on your lips.

"No," he chuckled and shook his head. "All of your worrying is completely warranted."

"Really?" you raised your eyebrows in playful disbelief.

"I do act a little…recklessly. And I didn't even realize until you said something."

"Well, I'm glad we were both able to yell some sense into each other. Sounds like if we just communicated with each other, we could've avoided _all_ of this."

"Yeah," he smiled at you. You smiled back at him.

"I just hope we don't have to yell at each other again. That was one of the worst things I've ever experienced, and I've been shot before," you commented.

"Me, too."

He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled your close. You leaned into him and closed your eyes. You breathed in his comforting scent, like you had done many times before. Somehow, this time felt different. You suddenly realized that you never wanted this moment, this embrace, to end. You never wanted to let him go, no matter what. The feelings you had for him were starting to overflow. You regretted no telling him about your ankle before. You weren't going to regret not telling him how you felt about him, too.

Your mind traveled back to that conversation you had with Bucky a few days ago. His nagging voice urging you to tell Steve how you felt filled your thoughts. But you couldn't just _tell_ him. Not when you weren't sure if your feelings were reciprocated. Sure, Bucky did allude to it—and he knew Steve like the back of his hand—but you wanted to hear it from Steve himself before you confessed anything.

Some things did add up. He watched over you like a concerned mother hen. You had always thought he did that because you weren't as strong and able as the other Avengers and you were more prone to danger. But maybe, _just maybe_ , it was because he cared for you in a way that you could've never imagined. If Bucky was right, if Steve really did feel something towards you, you wanted to find out tonight. You couldn't wait. You had to know the truth.

"Steve," you spoke. He hummed in response. "What-," you paused, straightening up and turning towards him to face him. "What did you mean when you said you worry about me more than you should?"

He blinked at you a few times before speaking. "I guess I'm just…concerned about you a lot."

"But why?" you asked, trying to coax the answer out of him. You weren't surprised at all that he was skirting around the question.

He sat there in silence, examining your features. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it. You realized he would need a little more of a push to get his answer out.

"Is it-is it because I'm not as capable as the others?"

His eyes widened at your question. "No, no-"

"Because I'm definitely not," you cut him off.

"Y/N, that's not-"

"It's okay, Steve. I can handle the truth."

"That's not the truth."

"Then what is?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes swept over his features: the sharp cut of his jawline, his tousled blonde hair that crowned his head delicately, the shadows that resided underneath his lengthy lashes, his cerulean blue eyes you always got lost in, his inviting, plush lips.

You caught yourself looking longingly at his lips and quickly directed your gaze back to his eyes. You watched as his eyes flickered down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze. It was obvious you two were on the same wavelength.

"This," he leaned down and captured his lips with yours. Soft and cautious, testing the waters. You melted into his touch, deepening the kiss. Your lips moved together effortlessly for as long as you two could bear before you had to break away to catch your breath.

"So, that's the truth?" you asked, a smirk playing on your lips.

"That's the truth," he smiled.

"Huh," you hummed. "I think you should tell me again," your smirk grew into a grin.

"I agree," he smiled, his grin matching yours before he leaned down to connect his lips with yours once more.


End file.
